


Voyeurism Revisited

by lornrocks



Category: Fandom: Heroes
Genre: Dreams, M/M, Rain, Sexytimes, Shame, Voyeurism, bottom!sylar, dirtytalking, floorsecks, jizzinginpants, mindreading, season4, thewall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornrocks/pseuds/lornrocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt goes into Sylar's head to see if he's telling the truth, only to find a memory of Peter and Sylar being a little too friendly with each other. He likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voyeurism Revisited

Matt wasn't exactly looking forward to going back into Sylar's mind. Sure, he's done it before, but this time, it was...just weird.

Seeing Peter act all buddy-buddy with the man who killed his brother was confusing as hell. What could possibly have happened in the span of six or so hours?

Matt shifted through Sylar's memories quickly, seeing the stuff he expected, like the two of them being snarky and uncivil. He was just about to pull out of Sylar's mind when he stumbled on a little jem hidden in the back of the other man's conscious.

Not exactly repressed, but not exactly on the forefront, either.

It had been raining, Matt notes.

Peter had been hammering at the wall; Sylar had been sitting cross legged against the chain link fence, reading. At the sudden onslaught, the two had dashed inside a nearby building.

"You made it rain?" Peter asks, pulling off his damp jacket. Sylar's memories are focusing entirely too much on the way Peter's muscle flex underneath his incredibly too tight black shirt, and the way his mouth crooks slightly the side.

Sylar shakes his head and makes to unbutton his own jacket.

"Not on purpose."

Matt can't help but notice that the anger and resentment seem to have ebbed; in fact, the two were acting entirely too...nice to each other. All things considered, anyway.

What happens next is almost unthinkable.

Peter reaches up and brushes Sylar's damp locks away from his face.

"You just wanted to get me naked, didn't you?" he quips, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Sylar smiles and feigns defeat.

"You caught me," he drawls, before suddenly moving forward to push Peter against a nearby wall and slamming their bodies together. A surprised gasp escapes Peter's lips as he tries to find purchase in the other man's wet shirt. Upon finding it too slippery, he shrugs and tilts his chin up to catch Sylar's lips with his own.

Sylar's memories are skipping over some of the more boring parts, as if moving in fast foward, and only snippets seem to remain. Matt watches in almost rapt horror and fascination as Peter ends up sprawled across the carpeted floor, stripped naked and flush with want. Little beads of water have dribbled down his hair and have slowly slid down his body, leaving little shiny streaks in their wake. Sylar, who's straddling Peter in a similarly undressed state, leans down and licks them up, prompting a grossly obscene moan from the man underneath him.

Matt wants to look away, to leave Sylar's brain, but he can't bring himself to look away. It's like a trainwreck, except strangely erotic.

Sylar's made his way back up to Peter's face and they're kissing again, quite ardently, and Matt can't help but shudder inwardly when he spies Peter's hand creeping down Sylar's thigh before settling firmly on his ass.

Matt can feel the desire and heat and affection coming off Sylar's memories in waves, can feel the budding infatuation, and it angers him. Sylar was supposed to alone, trapped, hurting. Not finding someone to love him. Someone to make him happy. Matt, good old Matt, he wasn't even happy. It wasn't right, or fair. It was wrong.

His reverie is promptly interrupted as Sylar tips his head back with a groan. Peter's working his fingers inside of Sylar, twisting and stretching and rubbing and the other man is trying not to push back. It's like something has switched, because Matt almost swears that he can feel exactly what Sylar was feeling.

Sylar swallows and tries to get his thoughts back in order.

"You're not going to hurt me," he grinds out, then stops to bite back a moan as Peter hits a particularly sensitive spot. "Move your hand," he says at last, and Peter obliges. Sylar moves so he's in a crouching position, with his legs on either side of the other man's hips, before carefully positioning himself over the head of Peter's cock.

Then, without warning, he slides down, causing them both to buck their hips together. Matt couldn't look away if he tried.

Without waiting to adjust, Sylar leans back to brace his hands on Peter's thighs and starts to bounce up and down lightly. The empath tries to put his hands on Sylar's hips to help him but Sylar takes both his wrists and holds them down on either side of Peter's pretty little face. Groaning, Peter tries to lift his hips to make up for it, but it doesn't do a lot of good. He resigns himself to laying there and letting Sylar ride him.

Sylar switches to a circular motion of his hips as he leans his mouth in dangerously close to Peter's ear and ghosts hot breath across the skin as he starts moaning obscenities into the other man's ear.

Matt can only pick up a few bits, but what he hears would make Howard Stern blush.

"I love the way your cock feels inside of me, Peter...you feel so good. So hot, so big..." He accentuates his point by pushing his hips violently against Peter's, making a slapping noise as he sheaths himself deeper around Peter.

Sylar's memory shifts to a single image of Peter biting his lip as his big dark eyes look up at Sylar with such depth and want. It's a heartbreaking image.

The taller man shifts back so he's sitting up and slides a hand down his own chest before wrapping itself on his straining cock. Giving a few savory strokes, Sylar looks down at Peter from underneath those eyebrows. His sinfully dark eyes have zeroed in on the man below him as he purrs, "I'm going to give you a show so good you're going to forget your own name."

And then he proceeds to do just that, as he bounces up and down on Peter's cock, one hand braced on Peter's leg and the other jerking himself in time with his movements. Peter's grabbed a hold of his hips, if only just to have something to grab on to, and mumbles praises as Sylar moans and never takes his eyes off Peter.

Another hand has joined Sylar's around his cock, and it's all Sylar needs before he bucks his hips one last time and comes copiously over his hand. Harsh pants are forced from his throat as Peter takes the opportunity to give a few shallow thrusts up into the other man. He arches his back and practically screams Sylar's name as he follows the other man into orgasm.

Sylar slumps foward and presses sloppy kisses to the other man's jawline.

"I never get tired of this," he whispers, and Matt takes the opportunity to push himself violently out of Sylar's mind.

It takes a minute for him to realize he's been staring at the two of them.

"Matt are you okay?" A voice interrupts. "You look a little pale."

Matt snaps out of it and swallows, trying to think of what to say.

"You two found a very interesting way to entertain yourselves in there, didn't you?" he asks, voice cold. Sylar shrinks back behind Peter, who looks back at Matt with a hard stare.

"Matt," he begins, but the telepath cuts him off.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

Sylar looks like he's about to say something, but Peter's already grabbed his arm and is tugging him away. Matt waits until he hears the door slam before hurriedly undoing the buttons on his pants. Stealing a glance at the unconscious man on his floor, he slides his hand into his boxers and wraps a hand around his cock, swollen and forgotten. It only takes a few strokes before he's coming, harder than he has in a while.

He's barely had time to recover before the guilt and shame sets in and he slumps back in his chair.

He never wants to be that pathetic again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written forever ago on LJ.


End file.
